The Love of a God
by artanisofavalon
Summary: Anassa, the daughter of a wealthy land owner in Greece, is horribly abused by her father. Finding the courage to finally escape in the guise of a male, Anassa finds a kindred spirit and the help she needs to recover in a mysterious young man she meets.
1. Chapter 1

Hello and welcome, dear readers to my new story! I truly hope that you enjoy it. I would ust like to say, that even though it is my first attempt at an ancient greek based fanfic, I happen to study the subject. A lot.

Disclaimer: Is this for real? How the hell is it possible for me to have been alive three THOUSAND years ago!

Onward!

Anassa dragged herself out of the doorway of her father's house, coughing up blood.

Tonight had been worse than the other nights. Her father had been exceptionally drunk, and had vented his anger at the dishonest traders who had cheated him by beating her till she could barely crawl. How her father had come to hate her so was beyond Anassa's knowledge, but barely night or day seemed to go by before her father came crashing through the doors to her chambers, seething with anger.

Heaving herself into a seating position, Anassa leaned pathetically against the courtyard wall and drew in one ragged breath after another. The well-placed blow her father had delivered to her chest must have cracked a few ribs. Or more.

She nursed her shocking wounds in the dark, hidden from the rest of the world, wondered why the Gods had cursed her. Her father, Acastus, was the owner of a large area of land, and despised the very sight of her. Anassa was the very image of her deceased mother, with the same long brown hair and bright green eyes, and the fact caused Acastus to remember what had been stolen from him. That fact also caused her stepmother, Caryatis, the daughter of a wealthy merchant, to loath her with an unrivalled passion. Caryatis treated Anassa as though she were nothing more than the lowliest of slaves. The woman's smile as her father backhanded her to the ground was imprinted in her mind.

Anassa burst into helpless tears, the action causing her to choke on the vile mixture of blood and bile which had formed in her bruised throat. She spat a mouthful of the bitter red liquid onto the ground.

Since her father had thrown her out of the house, declaring it not fit for animals, Anassa knew that she could not go back there. It would give him another reason to abuse her.

Having no friends or companions, Anassa knew there was only one place for her to go, and that was Cora, the village healer's hut. Anassa's mother had been a friend to the woman, and Anassa had always treated her with respect in honour of that.

Using the wall as support, the beaten young woman attempted to heave herself off the ground. And failed, the pain of the feat causing her chest to restrict and her head to throb unbearably.

Anassa knew she had no choice but to crawl on her hands and knees.

Cora lifted her eyes from the herbs she was crushing and stared in the direction of the front door. A faint banging was resounding from it, along with the sound of soft sobs.

The healer frowned. This situation was not something she was unused to, but at this time of night? It must have only been a few hours before dawn.

Nevertheless, the middle-aged woman removed herself from her straw rug, and walked to the other side of the room. Cora opened the door, and lifted a bemused brow when she saw no one on the other side. The healer then felt a hand brush weakly against her ankle, and gasped with shock when she saw the state of the culprit. Anassa was lying prostate on the ground, her hair spread before her, covering most her arm and face. What was more horrendous still, was the state the girl was in. Her chiton was torn and stained with filth, and there were bruises of every possible variety marking her skin. Anassa's visible eye was swollen to a horrible extent, and her nose was bleeding and obviously broken.

Cora immediately her knees in front of her friend's daughter, gathering the half-dead female into her arms.

"Oh, my dear, what has been done to you?" The healer murmured softly into her air.

"P-p-please…help…m-me…," was the croaked answer, before Anassa fell into merciful oblivion with an exhaled breath.

"I will, Anassa, I will," Cora answered quietly, despite knowing the girl was unconscious.

The healer gently moved Anassa's still form inside of her hut, and began preparing to treat the ruthless injuries inflicted onto her undeserving body.

Well, that's it for now! Sorry it was short, but it was just a test run. Please review, they honestly make my day.

Anyway I have to go now, ta ta!

Artanisofavalon.


	2. Chapter 2

The much awaited second chapter. **Cough**

Disclaimer: Oh, sod off!

Let us begin.

Cora sighed softly as she dabbed Anassa's forehead with a wet cloth.

It was mid-afternoon, and the battered young woman still had not regained consciousness. Which was just as well, since the salve she intended to rub against her cuts was strong enough to cause Achilles himself to cry out loud in pain.

Cora placed the cloth back into the bowl of cold water at her left, and bent to remove the small container of calamint salve from a wooden box at the side of Anassa's straw pallet. Sending a quick prayer to Artemis, protector of virgins, or at least she thought Anassa was a virgin, Cora lifted off the top of the stone container and scooped out a generous portion of the heavy paste.

Since she had already removed Anassa clothing, and discovered more hideous wounds covering her torso and legs, Cora simply drew back the woolen blanket and set to work rubbing the creamy substance onto Anassa's skin. Using her fingers, Cora thickly coated the large cut on the girl's stomach, and smoothed her hands over her injured torso and sides, rubbing diligently.

Cora moved Anassa's arms away from her sides and expertly massaged the slave onto them. Grimacing, Cora noticed a particularly painful looking cut on the girl's left arm and swiftly drew her hands over it.

She then concentrated on the purple handprint that marked Anassa's neck.

Cora worked carefully throughout the following half hour, rubbing gently, and checking for any wounds she might have missed.

Finally, the healer finished her task, and replaced the salve container back inside the box in which it belonged. She rubbed at the itch on her temple with her forearms, catching a whiff of the strong fragrance, which covered her hands. It smelled atrocious.

Cora quickly washed her hands in the bowl at the front of her hut.

She rose from her crouching position next to the entrance to her home, and began to prepare a simple vegetable broth for Anassa. To add to her abuse, the young woman had also been underfed and neglected. Her hair was a mess, and she looked so frail and thin that a feather might knock her down.

Cora ground her teeth in mute anger. The bastard who called himself her father deserved to be tossed straight into Tartarus with out judgement.

Well, Anassa was not going back into his residence if she could help it. That pig had made Antia's life miserable and he was going to have the chance to ruin her daughter's aswell.

She remembered the many times when Antia had come weeping to her doorstep after her husband had returned home, smelling of sex and alcohol. Anassa's mother had been a beautiful creature, kind and gentle with a pair of green eyes that could see straight into one's soul; but Acastus did not show her the love and devotion she deserved and yearned for.

News of Antia's death had shocked Cora, but had come as no surprise. The healer had known that it was only a matter of time before the green-eyed beauty would release the holds, which kept her in the living world.

Tears pricked their way into Cora's eyes. She wiped them away hastily, and concentrated instead on slicing the vegetables that would be added to the soup. Using her sharp dagger she quickly chopped the ingredients and placed them into the cauldron that was simmering over the bed of glowing coals in the center of her hut.

A groan came from behind her, and she turned to see Anassa groggily open her eyes and stare at her. Cora plastered a forced smile onto her face. She walked over to where Anassa was lying and knelt next to her.

"How are you feeling?" Cora placed her hand on Anassa's brow.

"I….h-hurt," she stammered, her eyes filled with tears.

"It will be alright child. Would…Would you like to tell me what happened? Maybe I will be able to help you," the healer murmured comfortingly, smoothing a hand through Anassa's hair.

A tear spilled down her cheek. " Al-alright. H-he beat me. He a-always does. I do not even know why! H-he…my father…he just stormed in my r-room, and p-pulled me out by my hair, and started to hit me! I begged him to s-stop, but he would not. He j-just backhanded me across my face and grabbed my neck," Anassa chocked out, her hand pressed against her neck as salty tears traced cool lines down her cheeks.

Cora saw red. She ground her teeth in anger, and turned her sharp eyes to Anassa. "Anassa, hearken to me, and listen carefully to what I have to tell you. So long as there is breath in me, you will not be going back to live with Acastus. I made a promise to your mother that I would watch over you and so I will."

"That is k-kind of you, Cora, but I have to go back. He will come here and hurt us b-both if I do not."

"He can not do anything to me. And I will not allow him to harm you even if he does find us," Cora spoke firmly, yet quietly.

"T-thank you, I am g-grateful," Anassa answered, her cries beginning to cease.

"You are most welcome. Now, do not waste your strength by speaking. I have made you some vegetable broth which will help you heal, and settle any hunger pains."

Anassa nodded slightly, her eyelids drooping.

"Try to get some rest while you wait for the broth. You look like a mess and sleep will help you recover," Cora told her.

Anassa did not answer, just nodded her head once more. She closed her eyes and listened to Cora moving to and fro around the small hut.

As she slipped in and out of consciousness, Anassa thought of her father, and how angry he would be when he arrived at their villa to find her missing. If he did not scare her to the extent that he did, Anassa could have laughed at the image of her father's flushed face and fury widened eyes. But he did frighten her. And she was sure he always would.

The threats he threw at her were horrible. No sane man would ever cold-bloodedly go through with such shameful things; especially not with his only daughter. But her father was not a sane man, as he had proved on more than one occasion.

Then there was Caryatis. Her step-mother was as beautiful as a forest nymph, and just as exotic. She had long auburn hair, which was unique among the Greeks, and large cerulean blue eyes, also a rarity. Her figure was nothing short of perfect, Caryatis was both tall and slender, and her attributes drove Acastus to the brink of madness with his lust. Anassa had often heard the loud and animalistic sounds which came from their suites, not allowing a single being in the house to receive rest.

To add to Anassa's heartache, Acastus also forbade his daughter to speak of his dead wife. On the one occasion where Anassa had mentioned that she missed her mother, Acastus had almost killed her. Antia's very name caused Acastus behave as though he were one possessed. She was not even permitted to speak of Antia to her maid, Chryseis, for if Caryatis heard her, the vindictive woman's wrath crashed upon her like a tidal wave. Caryatis nursed an ever-present resentment and hate towards Antia, for the dead woman still remained branded into her husband's feelings and mind in a manner that she knew she never would.

Anassa pushed the painful thoughts out of her mind. It would not do to stress herself over the unchangeable. Her life would never improve. Well, it might when she got married, but she did not know that for certain.

Anassa absently rubbed her hand over her face, mindless of the pain it inflicted. She had felt enough hurt to be able to endure the prickling sensation on her arm.

Hunger caused her stomach to growl, and Cora turned to face her, smiling and holding a bowl in her hands.

"Just in time, my dear." She set the bowl onto the ground and helped Anassa into a seating position. "I hope it will fill that empty stomach."

Anassa voiced her thanks and accepted the wooden bowl from Cora. Slowly, she lifted it to her lips, taking a small sip and feeling its warmth loosen her tight throat.

"Eat up! Eat up! No need to be shy. There is no use for table manners here," Cora told her when she saw that Anassa was trying to be polite and eat properly.

Relieved to hear the words, Anassa began to consume the hot soup hungrily, mindless of the slurping sounds she was making.

"That's a good girl. When you finish I will wash your hair for you, it is in need of a thorough grooming."

Anassa merely nodded.

When she was half-way through her meal, Cora explained that she was leaving to draw water from the well near the large apple tree, and that she would be back soon.

Anassa was grateful for the time alone. She rarely received solitude, for her house was large and usually filled with people. Traders, servants, Caryatis' friends, and her father's loud and obnoxious companions, who never missed the chance to jeer and make inappropriate remarks to her, all bustled around the house in a clatter of noise.

Thinking about her father's friends caused her to shudder. There was one, Polydeuces, who never tired of staring and smirking at her. Whenever she glanced his way she would see him following her with those dark, dark eyes. Anassa would be lying if she said that he was not handsome, for he was, very much so. Polydeuces was tall and strong of build, with tanned skin, blonde hair, dark eyes and a smile which could melt a girl at her knees.

Despite his pleasing appearance, he made her skin crawl, and she felt as though she were naked under his scrutinizing gaze.

It was sickening.

Anassa set the now empty bowl of broth onto the ground. For the first time in many weeks, Anassa felt full. All that was left now was the issue of cleanliness, but Cora had assured her that it would not do to bathe while her wounds remained unhealed. Ah, well, that could be taken care of later.

She ran a hand through her tangled hair and grimaced. Cora was right. It was in desperate need of a thorough wash and comb. Anassa wished she could go outside. Dido, the cook, had often informed her that she had inherited that from her mother aswell; the longing for nature and the comfort it offered. But she was under strict orders that if she were to even think of leaving her bed, she would be covered in the smelliest poultices and ointments Cora had to offer.

The creaking sound of the door opening drew her out of her thoughts, and Cora walked inside the hut, flushed and cursing.

"Zeus' balls! If I had known it would be that hard to fetch a bucket of water, I would have left you to the lice!"

Anassa could not help but grin.

"Thank you, Cora."

"No need for that. Now, come on! We have a head of tangled hair to clean!" Cora said cheerfully, trying to lift Anassa's spirits.

Anassa did not reply, and watched as Cora walked over to were she lay, and sat down behind her. The healer pulled Anassa hair out from under her and started to comb it.

"You have beautiful hair, do you know that?"

"Really?"

"Yes. It's just like your mother's. You should be proud."

"Not as beautiful as Caryatis'. I wish mine was that lovely colour." As much as Anassa despised her step-mother, she could not deny that she had reason to envy her.

"That hideous red-brown colour? Just must be joking, Anassa! Do you have a fever my dear? For you seem to be showing signs of delusion!"

Anassa laughed, and her giggle soon turned into a cough.

"It is so unusual amongst Greeks, and I am so ordinary. You can not blame me for wishing for some beauty. After all, almost every girl yearns for the same thing," Anassa reasoned, her voice showing a hint of resentment.

"You have no need to wish for beauty. You already have it; and in bucket fulls, I might add. Do not let that big-breasted dimwit cause you to feel bad about yourself. Now let us cease talking about her. It is making me feel ill."

Anassa could not help but grin.

Cora continued her work on Anassa's hair. She carefully wetted her head with water, lathered her hair with fragrant floral soap, rinsed it, and started the whole process once more. It was quite some time before they were finished.

"There. Done. You look much more presentable. Less like a harpy, I might add," Cora joked, wiping her hands.

"Thanks, Cora. I feel better aswell."

"Your welcome. Would, you excuse me for a moment? I need to dispose of the water."

"Of course. It is your home, you need not ask me."

With a small smile, Cora lifted the bowl of soapy water into her arms, and headed for the door. But before she could reach it, it was thrust open with incredible force, and a fuming, red-faced Acastus came charging into the room.

Dun, dun, dun. What happens now? Just joking! I know it was a ridiculous excuse of a cliff-hanger, but bear with me, I do not use them very often. Anyway, read and review.

Ta ta!

Artanisofavalon.


	3. Chapter 3

Woo Hoo! My dad brought a Peugeot 504 '71 today! Hurrah! Sorry I haven't updated in so long, my computer has been stuffing up…again! Anywho, read, review and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I swear, I wasn't me who stole Apollo! (Pushes something blonde and shiny under bed with foot).

We ride north…I mean…on with the story.  
X 

The wooden door flew back with a crash, causing a loud noise to resound off the walls at the impact. Acastus marched into the room, an expression of utter fury sketched all over his now-purple face.

He turned to face Cora, grabbing her arm and roughly jerking her towards him.

"Where is she? Where is the little slut?" He demanded.

Cora's face scrunched with disgust. "Why? So that you can beat her half to death again, you bastard!" She spat at him through her teeth. 

Anassa watched in horror as Acastus slapped her sharply across her face, sending her to the floor. He then wiped himself clean of her saliva, slapping Cora again as she lifted herself off of the floor, her hand held over her cheek.

She grunted as she made contact with the hard ground.

Anassa could no longer bear watching her father abuse Cora in his brutal manner.

"No!" She yelled. "Leave her be!"

Acastus turned his wrathful gaze onto his daughter, and marched to where she was sitting up on her pallet, clutching the sheet to her chest. 

"You defend her, you little bitch?" He grabbed her hair, causing Anassa to whimper pitifully. "Huh, I should not be surprised. Just like your mother."

Acastus backhanded Anassa, striking her already bruised eye, drawing blood from the cut that was just beginning to heal. Anassa was sent to the ground, landing heavily onto her injured side. She lay there, struggling to breathe, as her father looked down upon her with hatred. The disgust in his furious gaze was the last thing she knew before merciful unconsciousness overcame her.

Cora had finally heaved herself from the ground, and, ignoring the blood which trailed down the side of her face, moved to confront the tyrannical man in front of her.

"Leave my house," she ordered. "Leave, and never return, whoreson." 

Acastus laughed, a harsh, spiteful sound. "You really are quite pathetic, Cora." He grabbed her arm once more, twisting it horrendously. Cora cried out in pain, clutching onto his wrist in a futile attempt to lessen the tightness of his grip.

"L-ah! Leave Acastus!" She managed to get out.

"Never. Not without that whore," was his reply.

"She is not-," Cora hissed in pain. "Anassa is not going back with you."

Acastus snorted. "What makes you believe that you can stop me?"

Then, Cora slammed her shoe onto his foot, hard. The action caused him to howl in pain and fury and slacken his grip. Cora, seeing the opportunity, quickly removed herself from his grip and ran across the room, fumbling for her dagger when she reached its occupation.

But he was too quick for her. Acastus, ignoring the pain in his foot, lunged for her, and sent them both sprawling to the ground. He turned her around roughly underneath him, and straddled her hips while jerking her arms above her head, narrowly avoiding the kick she aimed for his groin.

He held her pinned to the ground with his body, and spoke in a low, menacing tone of voice so that she could know exactly how serious he was.

"That was not a very smart thing to do, Cora. Now, let me make myself clear. I am not leaving here until you hand over that miserable excuse of a daughter of mine. She will, one way or another, return to my house, and believe you me, she will pay for this," his eyes flashed as he spoke.

Cora ground her teeth, trying desperately to ignore the burning sensation in her wrists. Acastus' grip was almost like iron, something not uncommon for a soldier, and she wondered how on the gods' green Earth that Anassa had survived a beating from this malicious man. 

"Leave," Cora gasped out, the air crushed out of her body by his weight. 

"You do not relent, do you?" Acastus asked spitefully. He gripped her chin forcefully. "I do not mind, I like a woman with a bit of spirit." He rushed his mouth to hers, licking her pink lips with his tongue in a despicable fashion.

Feeling his rapidly hardening member against her leg, Cora was conscious of a sharp stab of fear. She needed to get him off of her, and she knew that retrieving her dagger was a necessity in this situation. With a thousand and one thoughts and scenarios flashing in her mind, Cora reflexively acted on the one that she knew would be the most painful. 

Mustering about her strength, she placed all the will power and force that her body was capable of behind the firm blow she directed to his bulging groin.

With a roar of pain, the beast of a man's grip on the healer's wrists slackened, and with a swift, heartfelt prayer to the gods, Cora pushed at his hard chest to get him off of her and began fumbling for her dagger, gasping with shock and the desperate need for air. 

Acastus, being the warrior that he was, recovered in a shorter amount of time than Cora had hoped. He growled in fury and prepared to lunge for her once more. As if by some unnatural force, Cora's sweaty palm closed over the hard hilt of her dagger, and she whipped it up to Acastus' neck, sending desperate thanks to her brother for his instruction in the way of weapons.

"Get. Out. Of. My. House,"she hissed, a hard glint in her eye.

Acastus shot her a dangerous look from where he was half-crouched with her knife at his throat and spat out four words in threat, "I will be back," before he rushed out of her hut.

Cora was so relieved that she did not know what to think. It was incredible that he had even left at all. She felt inclined to burst into terrified tears, but she repressed the consuming urge.

She began walking on unsteady knees to the bucket at the corner. In it was a small amount of water, which she used to wash her mouth clean of any trace of Acastus. The way his tongue had licked her mouth had been revolting. And likely something that would be a pain in the arse to erase from her memory.

Cora found it difficult to process the fact that he had actually left with out physically harming her.

She fervently thanked the gods and released a sob of relief and fear. 

Cora then suddenly realised that in her horror, she had completely forgotten about Anassa. Shamed, she hurried to the girl's side and straightened her position with gentle hands. Cora drew Anassa's dark locks from where they lay over her face and lifted her frail wrist to examine her pulse.

It was steady, thank goodness.

"Bastard," Cora muttered, seeing the angry red welt on the right side of Anassa's face and the blood that trickled from the cut Acastus' strike had re-opened. Her own face was undoubtedly bruised, and she grimaced as she remembered the force of his blows. Anassa must truly be one loved by the God's to have survived months, nay, years of the man's abhorrent treatment and abuse of her.

Cora tended to the cut and bruises with the same poultice she had applied earlier, easing Anassa's arm from her side afterwards to check for breakage. The girl had fallen to the ground quite roughly. Thankfully, Cora found that the bone was intact.

Cora's relief was not to last, however. Acastus now knew where they were, and he could deem it fit to charge into Cora's house and assault them whenever the fancy struck him. To avoid such a thing, Cora knew that they would have to flee.

Many of the village women, and even some city women who came to her for remedies had husbands who were sailors or soldiers, and because of this Cora was usually informed of the goings-on that well…went on. The certain times that certain boats left for certain islands were one such example. And a very useful example, at that.

Amaltheia, the heavily pregnant wife of a wealthy landowner, had said that there was a ship that sailed for Kos in three days. Which meant that it set sail tomorrow. Which was absolutely perfect, as it meant that Anassa could get far, far away from her father in a very short mount of time. All that was required now was to get the girl ready, and they could leave.

Cora was loath to force such a difficult ting onto Anassa, although she would make an exception in the current case seeing as the girl had a father who was vicious enough to put a chimaera to shame.

Right. If the boat left at mid day, as Amaltheia had said, or rather, complained, then that meant that they had less than a day to pack and leave. It would be tiresome, but the feat itself would not be impossible to fulfill.

A plan already taking form inside of her mind, Cora calculated the money that would be needed for the fare and supplies. And not to mention food. She had been saving coin for a long while for some emergency or another, and now was as good a time as any to put her savings to good use. The friend of her daughter was in need, and she had vowed to Antia that she would aid her only child.

The healer smoothed a hand over the unconscious girl's lovely tresses, and sighed. There was no way that they would even be able to set eyes upon the sight of a boat if they were to simply prance up to the captain as women. No, they would be either be mocked and made a complete laughing stock of, or taken aboard and ravaged mercilessly by the lonely sailors. Traveling as two females, with no male escort, at that, would simply not do.

They would have to dress as men.

The gods had smiled upon them once more, Cora discovered. Being a healer, there comes a time now and then where your patients are required to remove their clothing in order for examination to be possible. Due to this fact, Cora had a few items of male clothing tucked away somewhere inside of her hut. Three tunics and two pairs of torn farming trousers, to be specific. That was utterly perfect.

Hurriedly, Cora stood from her kneeling position and rummaged through the chest at the corner the room for the small box which held a needle and some thread. Her hand closing over its painted surface, the healer lifted out the box with a triumphant 'aha!' and set it to her side before continuing to shuffle through the box for the clothing.

A short while later, Cora sat beside Anassa with the second skirt in her mending grasp as she sewed the material blue material together. "There, done," she thought to herself as the needle dipped into the coarse fabric a final time. Expertly, she tied and bit the thread, placed the contents of her sewing box inside their original keeping-place, laid the pants and the tunics over the oiled wood of the chest and plopped ungracefully onto the ground with an unladylike grunt.

Cora was able to tell that night had indeed come to pay them a visit once again, for the light was no longer streaming inside the room from underneath her crude wooden door.

Night.

Cora loved the night. It was mysterious and enchanting; there seemed to be a thousand secrets lying behind its dark embrace. A person could lose themself in its silky depths and not wish to ever be found. As a young girl, she would slip out of her parents house at night and run to the wild lavender fields, where she would lay for hours simply staring at the pristine stars and swimming among the sweet fragrance of the wild flowers.

She sighed. In all of her thirty-one years, she had never been able to forget the scent of the flowers of her home in Athens. A tear coursed down her cheek, and she hastily wiped it away, sniffing.

Eyes still stinging, Cora distastefully realized that she was emitting an odour far beyond the description of foul. A concoction of sweat, herbs and musty clothes had deemed it fit to coat her frame in its hideous smell, and Cora grimaced as she inhaled a whiff of it.

Jumping from her seat on the ground, Cora grabbed a cloth and a bar of soap, donned her cloak, and left her hut.

Seeing as Anassa was still receiving some much needed rest, and that Acastus knew better than to show his gruesome hide at her property twice in a single night, she saw bathing as an acceptable and appropriate option in the situation. Better bathing whilst she had the opportunity than reeking horridly throughout their entire voyage.

Indeed.

-

The moon cast its silvery rays upon the crystalline lake, illuminating its calm waters until it shone as though it were a glowing nimbus of ethereal light.

Cora closed her eyes wistfully as she slipped into the cool water, treading leisurely until her chest was entirely submerged beneath a blanket of black satin. She bathed thoroughly, lathering her hair twice before she was satisfied it was clean. After swimming around meaninglessly in the water for a few minutes, the now spotless healer toweled off and redressed, wringing the excess water from her hair and twisting it into a bun which she tightly secured with a leather thong. Sliding on her sandles, Cora turned to leave when a sharp glint attracted her eye.

A sheathed broadsword was, for some unfathomable reason, as it seemed to be of incredibly fine make, left carelessly on the ground amidst a few bushes and rocks. Frowning, Cora walked to where it lay glinting and kneeled to acquire a closer view of the magnificent object. Her hand reached out to grab the blade and examine the heavy instrument of death, when, out of seemingly nowhere, a wickedly sharp dagger was whipped to the side of her throat and a ridiculously calm, undeniably masculine voice asked in a silky murmur,

"Well, what do we have here?"

-  
YES! Finally! Another chapter! I am gravely apologetic that I did not post in such a long time, and I promise you will not have to wait for such a lengthy amount of time for the next chapter. Please read, enjoy, and hopefully, review!

Sincerely,

Artanisofavalon.


	4. Chapter 4

New chapter. Excellent…

Disclaimer: Cake, anyone?

Onwards, my children.

-

_Previously…_

_A sheathed broadsword was, for some unfathomable reason, as it seemed to be of incredibly fine make, left carelessly on the ground amidst a few bushes and rocks. Frowning, Cora walked to where it lay glinting and kneeled to acquire a closer view at the magnificent object. Her hand reached out to grab the blade and examine the heavy instrument of death, when, out of seemingly nowhere, a wickedly sharp dagger was whipped to the side of her throat and a ridiculously calm, undeniably masculine voice asked in a silky murmur,_

"_Well, what do we have here?" _

-

Cora breath hitched in her throat at the touch of the knife, and her heart began to beat furiously as she heard her unknown assailant chuckle in an amused fashion.

The healer's breathing became a series of short gasps as a cloaked figure emerged from the shadows beside her and move to stand in front of her frozen form, dagger still held threateningly at her vulnerable neck.

She knew he was running his eyes about her, checking for any pointed objects, trying to determine whether or not she was a potential threat to his health, and Cora used this silent time to seize up her 'attacker'. Well, not that he had caused her any harm.

Yet.

Under the brown cloak, or at least, it looked to be brown, Cora could discern the shape of a straight nose above a sensual mouth and a chin that was dusted with a week's worth of stubble. He was tall, she saw now that he had moved into the slight moonlight, and his bulk looked to be capable.

The gut-wrenching fear that had been building up to tremendous heights inside of her increased.

Tenfold.

As she completed this thought, the cloaked man crouched and snatched up the sword, never removing his eyes from her face. He smoothly slid it into his belt with a brief scraping noise before what was visible of his mouth curved into a smile that was both entertained and suspicious. Somehow.

Not daring to move and keeping her gaze planted firmly onto the dagger that was aimed at her throat, Cora stood silently and waited for him, whoever he was, to act.

'He' continued to smile irritatingly before he asked, ridiculously casually, "Might I inquire as to what you intended to achieve by thieving my blade, madam?"

She swallowed, struggling to form coherent words. "I-I was only curious t-to see who it might have belonged to…sir. I thought perhaps i-it may have been unintentionally left behind. Though I assure you, I had no desire t- t-to steal it!" she stammered shamefully, cursing herself a thousand times over as she felt herself flush a bright red and heard him begin to laugh.

His laugh held a deep, resounding, and undeniably smug note, as though its keeper was definitely aware of the effect he had on others. The effect that left them flushed and stammering with embarrassment.

Amazingly, and still laughing, he set the dagger away from her throat and sheathed it, leaving her weak at the knees with pure, unadulterated relief.

Again.

"I now see that this is no more than a misunderstanding. I apologise if I frightened you, mistress, but I thought perhaps you were a thief who saw to rob me of my few possessions," he said, stepping further away from her.

Cora lifted a hand and clasped her neck, eyes closing momentarily as she realized that she was not maimed in any way.

"A misunderstanding…" she repeated in a small voice, eyes opening.

He did not form an answer to this, merely tilted his head back and studied her as she kept her eyes lowered in an attempt to calm her nerves.

A moment of silence stretched out between the two, before the cloaked man suddenly pulled back his hood and stretched out his hand to her in a gesture of greeting.

"I am Ianthus," he said, flashing a small smile and revealing even, white teeth.

"Cora," she supplied, voice somewhat hoarse, reaching out to shake his hand. Cora discovered that it was rough, calloused; like that belonging to an experienced soldier. She also found that Ianthus was not at all lacking in looks. He was tall, with blonde hair that shone silver in the dim light, and attractive dark blue eyes that crinkled pleasantly at the edges when he smiled.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Cora," he said, releasing her hand.

She cleared her throat. "Likewise…Ianthus," Cora answered, unsure whether or not to put his name to use.

Ianthus continued to scrutinize her, and she was beginning to find it somewhat annoying.

Peeved, for he had frightened her and she was naturally impatient, Cora asked, in her straight forward fashion, "Have you nothing better to do to waste to your than simply stand there and stubbornly bore holes into my head…sir?"

He lifted an elegant eyebrow at this, impressed by her frankness; it was not a trait commonly found in most women. But, then again, this Cora did not seem to be an ordinary woman. Any other male would have backhanded her in response to her impertinence in making such a statement, but Ianthus chose to merely chuckle.

"Madam, I assure you, boring holes into your head is the last thing I would wish to put you through. However, I was wondering whether or not I could trouble you for your assistance in helping me locate a healer," Ianthus said, cleverly diverting her attention from her indignation at finding him assessing her.

The irritated creases around Cora's mouth were smoothed out as her forehead formed a frown. "I am a healer. What is troubling you, lad?" she said, tossing her earlier 'sir' to the wind. Ianthus looked to be at least several years younger than she.

Ianthus peeled away the bark brown material of the cloak to bare his arm. Cora's frown deepened at what she saw. Some incident, perhaps a duel, had torn a long gash into the flesh of the young man's upper right arm. It had clearly received poor treatment, for despite the wound having been carelessly stitched, the skin surrounding the cut was red, swollen and oozing a sticky liquid, and the coarse thread which criss-crossed over the injury was digging rather painfully into his arm.

She carefully prodded the skin encircling the wound and heard Ianthus' sharp intake of breath.

Cora looked up into his face, not being able to comprehend the reason as to why he had permitted this easily treatable wound to become so horridly infected, and demanded in an incredulous voice, "How on earth did this happen!"

"Hunting mishap," he replied shortly.

She did not even have the decency to pretend that she believed his lie. "My arse. This wound is from no wild animal, Ianthus. The cut is much too precise to be the work of a beast; It is from either a blade or an arrow. Now please, verify."

Once again, Ianthus found his eyebrows shooting towards his hairline at her crude language. Nevertheless, with a grin that was suspiciously unlaced with pain due to the tear in his flesh, Ianthus settled for saying, in a neutral tone, "I was sparring with my brother, whom, despite his rather slight weight, is far too accurate with a sword for it to be deemed natural. I am certain that you can guess at the rest, Cora."

She nodded. "Indeed I can." With a final press of her long fingers against his muscled arm, the healer recovered his wound with the cloak and moved to stand directly in front of Ianthus, her earlier fear of him diminished.

"Your arm is badly infected, my lad. Though the stitching had aided in stemming blood loss, the thread is now embedded into the skin of your arm and causing far more harm than good. It will need to be removed," she spoke firmly, annoyed at the young man's carelessness.

"How do you propose we accomplish that?" He asked, no sarcasm tingeing his tone.

"You will need to return to my hut with me, Ianthus. There I will take care of the stitches and give to you a poultice that will serve as an antiseptic agent and help the torn flesh and skin knit back together."

Ianthus seemed unsure. "I do not wish to force hardship upon you, Cora. I could eas-"

"Nonsense!" She cut off his words. "I am a healer. It is my duty to aid those in need, and at this moment, your arm is all but crying out will need for treatment. Why did you not seek a healer earlier?"

"I suppose I thought that it would heal sooner or later. Paying a visit to the Athenian healers is not my idea of the perfect spending of my time," he said dryly.

"That was utterly foolish of you. Had you left-You are from Athens?" Cora asked the question before she had even completed the former sentence.

"I am. Athens has been my home for a very long time," Ianthus said, finding her quick change from scolding him to asking him the question quite funny.

"How I envy you. I left Athens when I was but a young girl," Cora added, sighing. "How did you come to be here, Ianthus?"

"It has always been a dream of mine to travel. And, here I am…," he answered.

"You are indeed lucky to be given such an opportunity. However, returning to the topic of your wounded arm, I would not say that you are lucky at all. Now, let us leave, as it is becoming quite cold, and I need to have a closer look at the slash," Cora stated, turning to walk away and expecting Ianthus to walk away with her.

He did not move.

Irritated, Cora whirled back around and strode her way back to stand in front of the tall man. "Are you not coming?"

"I do not believe that it would be proper, madam," he said.

Cora stared. "Ianthus. You are injured. And I am sure Anassa would not mind if we had a visitor as she is unconscious."

"Anassa?"

"My other patient," she said to him, once more turning to walk away. "Are you coming or not? It will not be my fault if you lose use of your arm if you do not," she called.

He sighed. "Give me a moment to fetch my pack," he said, growing weary of a woman he had only known for the span of a quarter-hour.

"Excellent. I shall be waiting here," Cora said, somewhat triumphantly.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter four, here for your enjoyment.

Disclaimer: I do not own even a tidbit of what is known as Greek mythology, even though I would like to.

Ready?

-

Blood trickled from his muscular arm as Cora gently pried the coarse stitches from Ianthus' wound, an expression of grim determination on her frowning face. Her long, wicked-looking needle was sitting in a bowl of salted water, and a bobbin of clean thread was on a reed mat beside it, almost taunting him with the promise of pure, unadulterated pain.

Grimace deepening, Cora pulled the last of the stitches free and wiped the wound with a wet cloth, massaging the skin surrounding it lightly to clean away the blood.

"Ianthus, I would warn you before hand; this shall sting, and sting painfully. I advise you to brace yourself," the healer stated bluntly, looking away from him as she meticulously retrieved a soapstone container from a woven basket at her side. She removed the lid, and a sharp, unpleasant odour emanated from the green tinged lotion within. Causing Iathus' blue eyes to water.

"Do what you must, Cora. I have experienced worse," Ianthus replied, peering into the soapstone container with distaste.

"I would not be so sure," she muttered, washing her hands in a bucket of fresh water and drying them thoroughly afterwards.

With the confidence of one who knew what they were doing extremely well, Cora removed a decent portion of the coloured paste and rubbed it briskly into Ianthus' cut without warning. He clenched his teeth at the burning sensation; she had not exaggerated when she had said that it would hurt.

The healer was ruthless in her attack; she worked the cream into his skin with little gentleness, her irritated mask firmly in place. No trace of the earlier care and hesitation was present as she completed her task. She did not speak, and Ianthus took this time to study the other occupant of the hut, perhaps to even distract him from fire that was smouldering within his flesh.

The young woman that lay asleep on the opposite side of the room looked to be no older than twenty, and was covered in bruises. Her arms played host to a variety of different lacerations and wounds, one of her eyes was swollen, and her nose was broken. Anassa, as Cora had said her name was, looked no better than a sea hag in her current state.

A merciless jab to his arm jolted him from his analysis of the mysterious girl, and tore a hiss from behind his teeth.

"Must you be so thorough?"

She lifted her dark head, and gazed at him with something akin to amusement. "Indeed. I have a reputation to uphold, Ianthus."

He made a crude noise. "I pity your patients."

Cora gave no answer, although he could hear her slight snort as she began to thread her sterilized needle with the clean string. She pinched the skin on either side of his wound together, and, looking into his eyes a final time, slowly buried the needle into his arm. Ianthus winced, but kept his silence. Little droplets of blood gathered on the edges of the stitches, soaking the thread. Cora worked with care this time, pausing every so often to wipe his skin with a fragrant cloth.

The entire procedure was more painful than Ianthus would have preferred, and it was with relief that Ianthus saw the needle disappear into his flesh for a final time. Securing the string, Cora reached for her dagger and cleanly sliced the thread, tying it afterwards.

"There! That was not so terrible now was it?"

"Do I seem to be a ten year old, woman?"

"Of course you do not. But, as that is the case, I am sure your very adult self would not mind at all when I say that I have yet to apply the extra salve and bandage the wound."

"I have known you less than one day, and already I am convinced that you shall be the end of me."

"I am touched, boy."

Not permitting him a riposte, the healer applied a generous amount of the previous creamy substance to his arm and bound the wound with dry linen.

"Done. It should heal within a week, perhaps two, but I would advise you against applying strain to it until I remove the stitching," she said.

"I thank you, Cora."

"Your thanks are accepted gratefully," she replied. She looked thoughtful for a moment. "Would you like anything to eat? I have broth if you wish to pacify your hunger."

"Please. It has been long since I have last eaten properly. I do not mean to trouble you, however," he answered.

Cora rolled her eyes in the cynical manner by which Ianthus now had grown to recognize as her trademark. "You insult me, boy. Give me a moment; I will heat it for you."

With that said, she turned and left him sitting on a padded mat with his long legs stretched out before him. He watched as she walked to and fro in the tiny space her home offered, and was aware that she held herself proudly, with her head high, and her back perfectly straight. It was quite bizarre; everything about the healer was different to what he was accustomed to in a low-ranking woman. Her living quarters were spotless, all items in the small room were placed in a convenient and sensible position, and Cora herself was immaculate in robes of dark forest green.

She invoked his curiosity, but not nearly to the extent Anassa did.

Ianthus was indeed extremely interested to discover how the girl had ended up in the state she was in. Despite the many cuts to her face, and her smashed nose, Anassa looked to possess a fair amount of natural beauty. He could see the supple shape of her cheekbones, and the fine curve of her mouth, and knew that there was an air of delicate womanliness about her. However, Ianthus could see no more of her, as her body was covered with a blue woven blanket, a fact that he, surprisingly, resented. There was nothing more beautiful about a female than her body. Or, so he thought.

His perusal was interrupted by Cora offering a bowl of delicious smelling soup to him, impeding his view of Anassa.

"Thank you," he murmured, accepting the wooden bowl, clutching it and feeling its warmth seep into his hands. He lifted the rim of the bowl to his lips, and drank deeply from its contents. It was delicious, wonderfully flavoured and warming. Cora nodded, and lowered herself to sit beside him, her hair now partially dried. She did not speak, and there was no sound in the room save for the gentle sipping of the vegetable broth.

Ianthus finished his meal, voicing his gratitude and appreciation to Cora, and she awarded him with a quick smile before relieving him of the bowl and cleaning it with a wet cloth. She was returning to sit at his side when a weak groan sounded from her side, and Cora's eyes whipped to the slowly awakening figure of Anassa. Cora rushed to aid the girl, and pressed a cool hand to her forehead, saying, pleased, "Good, no fever."

Anassa emitted another moan of discomfort, and groggily forced open her green eyes. "Cora? Did he hurt you?" Her voice was hoarse, as though layered behind a thick curtain of unshed tears.

Cora tucked a strand of the girl's dark hair behind her ear, smiling motherly. "No, my dear. He did not. You need not worry; he will not come here again." She cupped the girl's cheek, paying no heed to Ianthus.

Anassa swallowed. "I am glad," she rasped. A tear spilled down her cheek. The healer wiped at it.

"None of that now. I can not have you weeping a river in my house. Now tell me, are you hurt in any way?"

"A commendable question, but no, I have no further injuries."

"Such news, oh sarcastic one."

Ianthus, who had been watching the scene intently, grinned at this, and gave a short laugh. Green eyes abruptly met his. Cora had seen her reaction, and quickly explained, saying, "Anassa, we have a guest. This is Ianthus, a young man who was in need of my help. I would advise you to treat our guest with respect, for he is not dishonourable."

Anassa shifted her gaze to lie upon him. To Ianthus, it seemed as though she did not trust him. "I welcome you, Ianthus."

"It is my pleasure to meet you, Anassa," he replied, as courteous as he was able.

Anassa nodded politely, and observed Ianthus speaking with Cora. He was very handsome, she decided, and blushed quite scarlet when she caught sight of his long muscular legs and hard arms. Anassa quietly chastised herself for her thoughts, and resolved to attempt to not make a fool of herself while the young man was here. Damaged self-confidence was the last thing she required. Preventing herself from feeling uncomfortable was decidedly difficult, though, as she was nude underneath the thin blanket.

Meanwhile, Cora had seen the young woman's blush as she seized up the good-looking guest, and smiled. So she fancied Ianthus, did she? The healer made a mental note of cornering Anassa as soon as possible and wrenching the truth out of her. But, while the object of Anassa's obvious discomfort was present, Cora decided to ignore what ever went on.

"So, Ianthus? You mentioned that you were a traveler. Where are you headed to after you leave Mycenae?" Cora asked.

Ianthus met her eyes. "I am hoping to leave for Kos the following morn."

Cora's heart leapt excitedly. "Oh."

The Athenian looked thoughtful. "Cora, I am grateful for the kindness you have shown me. If there is any way in which I can be of aid to you, I would appreciate it if you would tell me."

The healer almost punched the air in triumph. However, she retained an emotion free expression, making a show of thinking how he could help her.

"Are you sure, Ianthus? You might regret your decision afterward."

"It matters not, Cora."

"Well…there is one way that you could help us…"

Well, that's all for now folks, although the next chapter should be out either later today or tomorrow. I apologise for the wait, and I know that this is progressing slightly slowly than I would prefer, but the next chapter should contain more action. Enjoy the chapter, and review, people!

Artanisofavalon.


	6. Chapter 6

Finally! An update. I do hope that you enjoy this one.

Disclaimer: I have an unwavering love for Greek Mythology, I really do, but, unfortunately, I do not own it. Wish I did, though…Groans Meriones…chariots…shudders

To the story.

"Absolutely not!"

"But you said anything! Or have you also suffered injuries to your memory as well as your arm, Ianthus?" Cora protested, watching a look of disbelief paint itself onto Ianthus' expression.

"Woman, when I offered my assistance to you, I never dreamed that you would ask me to escort you to _Kos_. Have you taken leave of your senses? Even if I agreed, I could not keep watch over you all of the time! You know very well the intentions of lonely sailors. _Anything_ could happen to you!" Ianthus's riposte was sharp, although he himself was rendered incredulous at the healer's uncommon audacity. She wanted to sail to Kos? And more shocking still, on a ship packed with sailors who had not seen even the lovely hair on the head of a female for only Zeus' knew how many months? She was jesting, surely?

Cora's face hardened. "You gave me your word, boy. I aided you, and you gave me your word. You are in my debt. For you to refuse me would only serve to show that you have the same conception of honour as the next flea invested pup to beg at my doorstep!" Her tone was rude and disrespectful, and Anassa, who had been watching the entire spectacle from her place at the pallet, saw fury flash in Ianthus' eyes at the offending statement.

His jaw worked itself back and forth, a clear sign that he was restraining himself. It was as though a dark thunderhead had gathered to crowd his demeanor. The handsome youth did not look pleased at being addressed so rudely.

"I do not appreciate being addressed so, Cora. Whether I be a guest, or not," Ianthus said, his voice calm and controlled, although his striking eyes had lost none of their fire.

Anassa watched on intently, eyeing him, aware of slight twinges of feminine longing for the golden-haired man, much to her chagrin. A thin coat of moisture dampened her palms, and the room seemed to increase in temperature.

Unaware of the physical reactions of the third occupant of the room, Cora continued, as confident as ever. If she had any clue as to how her jibe had infuriated Ianthus, she gave no indication.

"Nor do I appreciate being made a fool of Ianthus. We need to get to Kos. Whether you are willing to take us with you or not, Anassa and I are leaving at dawn."

Ianthus sighed, a sign that he was on the brink of relenting. "Stubborn wench," he thought.

"But how do you expect to be permitted on board! The two of you will be made a public lot of if you approach the captain. And I will not be able to keep an eye on you throughout the entire day," he said exasperatedly, making a final stand to preserve his dignity.

Cora merely smirked. She walked up to him, and patted his stubbled cheek. "I knew that you would see reason. And as to how Anassa and I will make it safely onto the ship…" her voiced trailed off as she walked to the western of the hut, and produced a man's skirt and tunic, holding them up against herself to display them and grinning at his bewilderment.

In a deep, almost laughably male voice, she spoke, "I am Dorus, and my companion there is Meles. We are travelers, come from Athens."

She looked expectantly at him.

The stupidity and risk of the entire prospect made themselves wholly known to him, and Ianthus released a bark of laughter.

X

Ianthus breathed in a lungful of the sweetly scented air, and willed his head to clear. He still could not believe that the stubborn woman was planning to sail to a completely foreign part of Greece, and dressed as a man. What on earth had possessed the wretch?

The golden haired man shook his head at the ridiculousness of the situation. But, despite his disapproval of her stubborn relentlessness, Ianthus found it within himself to spare a modicum of respect and admiration for the healer's determination.

His throaty chuckle resounded in the night.

He had left the hut, using the need to better understand his thoughts as an excuse, and had wandered into the forest, where Ianthus knew he could muse uninterrupted, and meet with the person he intended to speak with without fear of being overheard.

The earth here smelled clean, and the grass was soft and lush beneath his sandals as he treaded along the wood paths that he knew as thoroughly as the back of his hand.

Travelling silently, for there was no one to speak to, the youth spent his time in solitude mulling over matters he did not usually ponder upon.

Ianthus was lifted from his thoughts when the moonlight exposed a large, uninhabited clearing among the tight knit of trees, and the wide strip of water that cut through it, reflecting the slight moonlight that there was. Save for the shining waters of the stream, the entire area was swathed in thick curtains of darkness, disallowing Ianthus the opportunity to see much of his surroundings. If he had not been required to visit the place so late in the night, Ianthus would have not even thought on venturing so deep into the heart of the woods.

Before he could even complete this thought, a bright, silver light filled the clearing, along with the sound of a steed's thundering hooves, and he turned to see an impossibly fair young woman descend onto the forest floor from her seat on the back of a black horse.

Her robes were a shade of deep blue, iridescent like a peacock's tail, and the eerie light that illuminated from her skin banished the gloom. The straps of her fine leather sandals criss-crossed over her sleek legs to tie beneath her knees.

One would have easily guessed her true identity.

Smiling mischievously, as she always did when she met with him, the woman walked over to him, her lustrous brown hair flowing freely over her shoulders and down her back.

His face split into a grin. "You're late."

She feigned an expression of mock-hurt. "What is this? No words of welcome to your dear sister?"

She then laughed and leapt into his arms, enveloping him into a warm embrace.

"I have missed you, Artemis."

X

Ha ha! I shall leave you with this evil cliffhanger, and you shall only know what happens next if you continue to read! Enjoy the chapter, and review, oh fans and authors of 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter seven, ready for you to view. Enjoy, and review, people!

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I will someday, though.

Let us journey forth!

X

"So, Apollo? How is life among mortals treating you? Or, is it more appropriate to say 'Ianthus'?" Artemis asked, delicately sipping from her worked wine goblet.

"We are alone, so you can say whatever you like. As to how life away from Olympus and its petty jealousies is, wonderfully refreshing is all that I can say," Apollo answered dryly, twirling his long since emptied goblet between his shapely fingers.

His sister rolled her eyes. "Brother, you are taking this entire situation far too seriously. You and father had a bout; who cares? It is not your first, nor will it be your last," she said matter-of-factly.

Apollo lifted his eyes to her face. "How fares mother?" He asked, deliberately changing the topic of discussion; much to Artemis' frustration.

"Mother is well. She misses you greatly, and she sends her love," she answered, although her tone suggested that the former matter was far from over.

"I yearn to see her; it has been far too long."

"Yes, it has. Why do you do this? I detest living among the Olympians alone. I feel precisely as you do, but yet I still tolerate it, Apollo. Why can you not do the same?" Artemis asked him, unrelenting in her quest to find an answer to his absence from their home. She had been absent from the great mountain when he and his father had argued, quite viciously he remembered, and had been confused when she had returned from her time spent in the forests to discover that her brother was missing. Well, he thought, now is as good a time as any to explain.

"Because I can no longer put up with seeing him cause strife to so many others. I am guilty of the same charge, yes, but I have now seen reason! He cares for none but himself, and his wife the same; that is why I left," spoke Apollo angrily, scowling as he threw the silver cup to the ground and saw it dematerialize with a thin trail of smoke.

His beautiful sister sighed, and wrapped her slim arms around his shoulders to draw him into an embrace. Apollo returned her gesture, and buried his nose in her hair, breathing in the familiar scent of sandalwood.

"I know that it is a challenge living with them, but you must know that he loves you. He has been in a horrid mood ever since you disappeared; he is drinking as though there shall be no sunrise," Artemis reported, gazing into his dark blue eyes and cupping his bristled cheek with her cool palm.

Apollo smirked. "Zeus always drinks as though there shall be no sunrise."

She laughed. "Well, you are right about that," she paused, studying him fondly, before she plucked a second chalice identical to the one he had carelessly tossed from thin air and filled it with finely flavoured wine. "Here," she said, placing the lovely cup in his strong hand, "have some wine to brighten your spirits."

"Thank you."

He welcomed a long swallow of the spicy alcohol and felt it warm his chest pleasantly.

"So, Artemis, how has fair life been treating you, my sweet sister?"

"Well, but it is not my life that I am worried for. If I see another stupid stripling boy of a human even attempt to draw his bow in my forest again, I make it my personal duty to dominate their nightmares!" Artemis declared hotly.

Apollo snorted with laughter. "That ignorant, are they? Ignorant enough not to believe that you are ruthless in matters concerning your precious woods?" He spoke sarcastically, albeit jestingly.

"Indeed. It is incredible how idiotic humans can be. What do they think we are? Myths?" said Artemis, allowing his comment to slide. "Speaking of humans…word has reached my ear that you have consented to escort two mortals to the island of Kos. Two female mortals."

Apollo did not like where this conversation was heading. "I have. They showed me their hospitality and it is only reasonable for me to thank them."

"Indeed," she said, and her serenity at that moment could rival Hestia's. "But…the younger one, Anassa, is it? Seems to be very pretty, doesn't she?" A warning bell tolled in Apollo's mind. Sly wench.

"Her beauty, or lack of it, has not caught my attention, sister."

"Oh, is that so?"

"Yes, it is so."

"Apollo, do you take me for a blind fool? I am your twin, and I know all of your deepest, darkest, most disgusting secrets. You do fancy her, or her body, to be more specific, and I would tell you that you had better not break this young girl's heart."

"There is no need to attack me. I had no intention of bedding Anassa. And even if I had, that rather…frightening threat of yours has deterred me," Apollo replied.

"Brother, it is not a threat; it is a promise."

"Oh, I am shivering where I stand."

"Good," she said, grinning.

Silence ensued, both brother and sister quietly sipping from their cups, Apollo with his elbow resting against his bent knee and Artemis with her sculpted legs neatly crossed as she sat beside him.

An owl called, and Artemis turned to him. "That is my queue to leave, brother. I have enjoyed our meeting very much. Even if you and our father never reconcile, just know that I love you," she said tenderly, standing up, Apollo following suit.

He slid his arms around her torso and pressed a kiss to her clear forehead. "Rest assured that that love is returned, little sister."

She kissed him on his cheek, and ran out of sight, the hoof beats of the magnificent black horse she had been riding soon echoing off of the trees as she rode out into the night.

Apollo released a sigh as soon as she had gone.

His feud with his father was beginning to weary him. Apollo had never shared an ideal nor peaceful relationship with the man he called his father, and Zeus had never seemed interested in anything other than pursuing his countless love interests. Apollo himself had enjoyed the favours of plentiful women, but the thought of finding a wife had begun to seem more and more appealing to him. It never had before, but perhaps he had grown less selfish after witnessing the heart ache the other gods caused on a whim.

Shaking his head to rearrange his wandering thoughts, Apollo raised the hood to his cloak and left the clearing as silently as he had arrived.

X

The following day

"You hail from Athens?"

A skeptical tone was present within the sailor's bass rumble, and his eyes seemed mocking as they eyed the disguised form of Cora and Anassa.

"Aye, that is correct," Cora, or 'Dorus' as she had introduced herself, replied. "We have need to leave for Kos. Business," 'Dorus' explained, seeing the frank curiosity within the man's eyes.

His demeanor scrutinizing, the sailor accepted the sack of coins Anassa handed to him, seemingly startled at the injuries to her face, and said, "I warn you; any troublemakers on my ship will not be put up with. You hear me?"

At the simultaneous nods from both Cora and Anassa, and Ianthus' unconcerned 'indeed', the captain of the 'Gorgophone' stalked off, his large bulk disappearing into the crowd of gathered sea farers and travelers.

"What a lovely fellow," Cora said with false pleasantness, and Anassa chuckled.

That day at dawn, the two women and Ianthus had risen and eaten and packed their luggage, which, at Ianthus' advice, was quite light. Cora had then the hut as best she could and she and Anassa had then stalked off to the woods to transform into their male aliases. The two had rubbed dirt into their long hair and onto their skin to make it coarse and dirty; they had bound their chests to conceal their breasts and had changed into the tunics, skirts and sandals that Cora had mended.

Surprisingly, the entire charade was quite effective. Not one person had cast a suspicious eye towards either Cora or Anassa.

"In a good mood, are you?" Ianthus said, smirking annoyingly.

"You had best keep your mouth closed, boy, if you do not wish to taste my cleaning rags," the healer hissed, drawing her cloak tighter around herself. The day was quite windy, despite the warmth of the sun that shone high in the azure sky.

Ianthus lifted his hands in a gesture of peace, still flashing his irritating grin.

It was his grin, Anassa thought, that almost caused her knees to metamorphose into water. He was fair without it gracing his expression, but when the Athenian smiled, his masculine beauty doubled. The way in which the sunlight glinted off of his golden hair was mesmerizing.

_What a shame it is that we shall never see him again after this journey._

She sighed as the waves of heat that had become familiar to her over the past days made themselves known once more.

Anassa hoped that he would not attempt to have a discussion with her. It would be far too embarrassing to flush and stammer while trying to form words that made some form of sense. Far too…unmanly.

But, it seemed that that wish the gods would not grant.

"Meles," he began, and his voice was unusually casual. "Why do you not come over here and help me with the luggage, eh?"

Anassa struggled to deepen her own, rather strong, female voice. "Why not?"

Some sailors behind them sniggered. "Look at 'im. The bloody slip's barely weaned!" This was followed by another bout of loud laughter.

"Pay them no heed," Ianthus advised quietly.

Anassa nodded, her skin now beginning to itch underneath her cloak as the sun reached its zenith.

Ianthus handed her a leather pouch that housed a change of clothes for herself and Cora and a skin of water. Both items were not overly weighty.

"It would not do to over exert yourself," he explained, slinging a much heavier cloth bag filled with clothing, food and coin.

The fact that both Cora and Ianthus saw it fit to treat her as some child's doll because of her bruises and broken nose did not sit well with Anassa. Being babied, in her eyes, was a form of pity; also something that was difficult for her to digest.

"Ianthus, I insist; hand me that pack over there. You need not do all of the work yourself," 'Meles' said, 'his' voice still uneven and awkward.

"Never mind it, Meles."

"But-," she protested.

"Meles, it is quite alright." Ianthus' tone was calm, yet stern, and Anassa sensed that she should press him no further.

Again, she nodded, murmured a quick, "I'll find Cora," and hurried to where the healer stood eyeing the ship with unconcealed distaste.

"If I had wanted to board a boat full of damned animals, I would have found the nearest goatherd," she mumbled irritably as Anassa approached her.

Anassa rolled her eyes good naturedly. "Your outlook on this entire situation is perfectly understandable. But, it is not forever. We shall reach Kos soon enough."

"Not before I pour viscid oil into one of the sailor's never emptying wine cups."

"You are difficult to interpret, have I ever told you that?"

"Why thank you, 'Meles'. Your mother always said the exact same thing," Cora said, her former comment riddled with sarcasm, her eyes filling with unspoken memories of the times she had spent with her closest friend at the latter.

Anassa sighed. "I wish she were still here with us."

"So do I. Then we could have stolen her away with us, and taken her far, far away from your father," Cora added. _Oh, Antia. If only things had been different._

"Was he awfully neglectful towards her?" Anassa pressed, her eyes stinging at the thought of her dead parent. Memories of her Mother's soft hands and long perfumed hair flitted though her mind.

"Awfully. The bastard never so much as uttered one sweet word to her. But, he loved her terribly, though he did not deserve her good graces, and, curse her, she loved him. Why, you ask? Even I still wonder what on Earth he had done to earn such of her," Cora said venomously.

"Why would he abuse her if he loved her?"

"Only the gods know how that vile man operates. Perhaps he was afraid to lose her, and thought of beating her into submission? We shall never truly know," Cora said, flicking a lock of filthy hair from her dirt streaked face.

Anassa remained silent.

At that moment, Ianthus walked over to them, bags hanging over his chiseled shoulders.

"I have spoken to the captain; we should be leaving soon," he said, dropping the bags to the floor unceremoniously as he stopped next to Anassa, so close to her that she could feel the warmth radiating from him.

"About bloody time too," Cora muttered. "And be careful with those bags! There are valuable items within them."

"Sorry." The apology did not sound sincere at all.

A seafarer shouted for the passengers to board the 'Gorgophone', and a hoard of grumbling men and haughty soldiers began to move from the dock to the gangplank, strings of crude language enough to cause Anassa to flush following in their wake.

Ianthus bent to retrieve their belongings, and they began to walk forward along the dock to reach the ship that was already becoming crowded.

"Whatever happens, stay with me," he murmured, staring Anassa into her eyes. "Cora, I am sure, is more than capable of holding up her own against a group of rowdy sailors."

"I will," she answered.

"Good."

They were among the last to come aboard, and it was a long time before the 'Gorgophone' began to head for the open sea, but, as she stood watching Mycenae fade away into the distance, Anassa was conscious of a sharp pang of hurt and regret.

Whether it was regret for herself, for leaving her home or the father who hated her, Anassa did not know.

All she knew as she watched her homeland slowly disappear was that she was excited about adventuring to the world outside of her father's estate and its terrible inhabitants.

Excited and terribly frightened.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Alas, Greek Mythology is not my own.

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One week.

One reprehensible, endless, gut-wrenching, stomach-turning, tormenting week aboard the _Gorgophone. _And still there was time even more to pass before they reached the shores of Kos. _Wonderful._

Anassa grasped onto the railing of the cluttered vessel, her mind reeling and the smell of filth, sweat, salt and urine permeating the air that she breathed. The disguise that had become her barrier against the world of motion and tiresome work that operated around her had become stained, and torn, and her short, crudely shorn man's braid had proven itself as a perpetual bother. Her splintered, rope burned hands were another constant pain, quite literally, and Cora's attitude had done everything but put an abrupt end to the worsening of their predicament.

Shockingly, the word that Anassa was not exactly who – or what – she had claimed to be seemed to be circulating aboard the ship, and the occasional, if not slightly infuriating, slap to the backside had also become a significant portion within Anassa's daily routine. At first, the very prospect of discovery had terrified her, but, now that she had been convinced that the men could not care less concerning whether or not she was truly a male, a female or Hermaphroditos himself (what a skinny_ lad_ ye are, love), Anassa's frayed nerves began to subtly and steadily repair themselves.

"You really need to calm down," Cora had said, whilst she nibbled on a handful of dried dates that she had stolen from the storage compartments below the deck. "Stress is not a convenient for recuperation or the treatment of wounds."

To her disappointment, surprisingly, Anassa had not seen very much of Ianthus at all. The tall Athenian usually seemed to be preoccupied at the rigging, rowing with the teeming tumult of other rude, annoyed men, or otherwise engaged some activity or another within the sleeping compartments that were concealed beneath the scrubbed, cracking floorboards that irritated the feet even through the leather of the sandals. It disappointed her a little, although she did not know the reason as to why. Unwilling to further spoil her already perfectly awful day, she surmised that it certainly would be beneficial for her if she were to avoid him, and left her heated reasoning at that. _If only._ She was finding that it was becoming more difficult to restrain her flustered responses to his uncomfortable nearness, something especially humiliating, taking into consideration that she shared her sleeping area with him – it confused her, and Anassa did not like it.

Glancing upward and squinting against the unbearable brightness of the midmorning sun, Anassa swept her gaze across the perimeter of the enormous vessel to search for the final member of their mismatched trio. Truly uncaring for the wretched hopelessness that only Anassa seemed to feel, Cora was diligently busying herself with an enthusiastic bout of arm wrestling against a man who looked as though he could have promptly ripped her arm from its tender socket. It was strangely embarrassing. The fact that he – whoever he was - was devoid of even a stitch of clothing also did nothing to lessen Anassa's mortification.

Kneeling at the dilapidated loading crate that had been procured and erected to the side of the main mast, the unknown man's, well…_maleness _jerked irregularly with each strained movement that Cora offered opposite where he stolidly sat. Of course, Anassa had gleaned the rare glimpse of her father's manhood as she had passed by the corridor that wound gracefully outside of their villa's bathhouse, yet, she had never, ever seen one that was so _huge. _And she had seen quite a few. One method that Caryatis found remarkably effective toward her campaign in remaining within the community's wealthiest social circles was hosting the occasional orgiastic dinner party, ostensibly to 'honour the gods'.

Anassa's presence had been demanded at quite a number of such 'gatherings'. Admittedly, finding her step mother crushed between – or, more appropriately, beneath - a group of ridiculously attractive males who most definitely were not her father had been less than appetizing.

A wave of nausea immediately swept from Anassa's stomach to within a dangerously close proximity of her mouth.

-

Cora rubbed viciously at her arm, glaring disdainfully at Anassa, who did reveal any hint that she noticed at all.

"What's the matter?" She asked, noting, with concern, the darkly purple half circles beneath Anassa's eyes. "Is it that time of the month, again?"

Anassa looked up. "No, it's not that. I've just been sick again. The water, the smell…" She pressed her fingers to her mouth, her skin a pale, waxy green.

"Ah," Cora said. "You should have told me sooner." She pulled the leather top of her medicine bag free and began to noisily rummage amongst whatever was inside. Cora procured a securely tied cloth pouch, and lifted from within it a solidified globule of transparent reddish matter which she placed onto Anassa's palm, closing her fingers protectively over it. "Here, take this. You should allow it to dissolve complete in your mouth before you swallow it, mind."

"Will it help with the nausea?" Anassa asked, laying it onto her tongue.

Cora snorted. "Absolutely not. That's a laxative."

"What!"

"It'll help to cleanse your bowels, and settle your stomach to keep the food from being rejected. I've noticed that it's been a while since you've excreted. That's not good. If I had any mint, I would have brewed you something to ease the cramps, but, as it is, I have none," Cora explained, smiling ruefully. "They should calm, in a while."

"I hope so," Anassa said, worriedly wrapping a forearm around her middle and blushing violently.. She did not expect to pass the following evening in reasonable comfort.

As it happened, later on that very night, Anassa discovered that her assumptions were painfully accurate.

-

Apollo found himself bothered. Bothered, and hot, and impossibly filthy, and sunburned beyond belief – flakes of his peeling skin were visible already against his stained clothing. He hadn't bathed in days; salt water was useless.

Beside him, Stelios, one of the _Gorgophone's_ many rowers, noticed Apollo's struggles and grinned. "I know how ye feel, Ianthus. Life aboard a ship's hard enough as it is, without Helios and his sense o' humour."

"You can say that again," Apollo replied dryly. He mentally berated himself for doubting the older god's dedication to his duties. "How do you do it, Stelios?"

The man wiped his brow with a forearm, before fixing his companion with an amused stare. "When ye've been aboard a ship for as long as I have, ye get used to it, I suppose," he said. He took a swallow from the skin at his elbow, revelling in his temporary escape from the oars. "Wine, Ianthus? If ye can't cope, ye may as well be dead drunk."

Apollo readily agreed, drinking deeply. He felt the warmth from the wine ease his aches, and sighed. "Thank you."

"Don't ye mention it."

A group of men that Apollo now recognised as fellow rowers of the Gorgophone saundered past, shouting boisterously and calling greeting to their comrades. One sailor pressed an eye against the wall that formed a separation between the deck and the compartments below, straining to overcome the darkness that blanketed the area within. Even an idiot would have been able to fathom that he intended to search for Anassa.

Solid rancour flooded Apollo's throat.

A warm breeze drifted from the churning waters that surrounded the boat, carrying with it the pungent odours of salt and urine, men and rope, doing little to soften the harsh onslaught of the sun. Apollo thought of his father, feeling bilious, and cursed. _The bastard..._ More often than not, those who found themselves the target of Zeus' anger lived to regret it. It had not been the first time.

He hoped that Anassa would not attract his attention; the pompous fool drew women as skilfully as if with magnetism.

He spat a mouthful of saliva into the sea.

"So, how's that pretty friend of yers?" Stelios' voice interrupted his musings.

"Which friend?" _Damn those **men.** _

"_Meles._"

Apollo frowned. "What of Meles? What's happened?" He asked quickly.

"Calm down," Stelios said, raising his eyebrows. "I was only asking. We all know that he's really a girl."

Apollo sighed. "I've said this before, to both yourself and to the others; nobody has any business with him- _her_." And he had - rather furiously.

"All right. Don't worry - the worst that we would've done is have a bit of fun with the sod. But I doubt that ye'd allow that," Stelios said, grinning ruefully.

"I would not."

"Right. There's still one thing that I want to know, though, Ianthus. How's it that her parents have sent her on such a voyage with only yerself and Dorus as escorts? She's a comely girl, as ye can no doubt can see. It's unseemly to stay with two _men_."

Stelios truly seemed bemused. Apollo turned to face him, the corner of his mouth lifting, and burst into laughter.

_Bloody Cora._

-

Anassa cracked open an eye.

It was obviously morning, and, amazingly, she did feel a little better. Well, perhaps more so than a _little_. However, she did not wish to feel gratitude toward Cora following the previous evening's strenuous ordeal. As skilled as the woman was, her methods were flagrantly unscrupulous. Anassa swore, and wrenched herself from her sleeping pallet, scratching fruitlessly at her scalp. _A single week without bathing..._

Cora was absent, the gods be thanked, and the stench of sickness had subsided somewhat. Anassa breathed deeply, noticing the pile of clean linens beside her bed - _clean! -_ and launched herself to her feet, scrubbing with purpose at her bites and scabs.

She sat with her knees drawn to her chin after she had bathed (if it could actually be called bathing), and mulled.

Anassa was at a complete loss as to what to do once she and Cora landed at Kos. She didn't think that Cora had set any plans either, although she had learned to expect surprise when it came to Cora and whatever occurred within that mad, brilliant, shameless mind of hers. It would be best to leave that to her.

She wondered whether or not her father - _Acacius,_ she corrected herself roughly - had learned of her absence. Most likely, he had, and most likely, he was spitting fire. He had only Caryatis to tolerate him, now, although it was simply a matter of time before her discovered her infidelity and either took another wife or killed her. It was unlikely that he would blacken his name with murder - and, as it was, Caryatis was beautiful. Too beautiful to mar. Perhaps he would have the decency to merely rape her and leave her be.

The door to her right creaked open, and Anassa, thinking the intruder to be Cora, released a lengthy groan and began to whine. "For goodness' sake, Cora, what _was_ that? I could barely sleep!"

"Cora is helping at the deck," Apollo replied.

"Ianthus?" Anassa flushed deeply red. "I though you were...somebody else."

"Evidently," he replied, smiling gently.

"May...May I help you?" Anassa said, painfully aware of the state of the cabin.

"Actually," he replied, "I came here to see _you_."

"Me? Why, whatever for?"

"Cora told me that you were ill."

"Oh..."

"Well?" Apollo said, following a moment's silence. "How are you?"

"I am...all right, I suppose," Anassa said. "As 'all right' as I can be expected to be on this ship. I doubt that that'll be the case for much longer, though." Reeling, she placed a hand to her stomach.

It was the most that she had ever spoken to him at once, and Apollo was secretly delighted. Smug, he found himself laughing. "I see what you mean; quite well, in fact. It shouldn't last for much longer. We should reach the port within the week."

"That is wonderful," Anassa said. "_Another _week."

_Ah...Sarcasm._ Apollo didn't say anything - he didn't want to spoil them moment as she huddled and twisted her pale little hands around eachother - but merely stood there and smiled calmly at her.

It would have been a lie had Anassa claimed Ianthus to be any less extraordinarily handsome - a foul lie. He was beautiful - the chiselled jawline, the wide chartreuse eyes, the perfect Grecian nose. There were times when the heat would flare within her belly simply by glancing at him, and there were others times when he'd say something and she'd laugh and it would almost seem as though they were comrades - friends. That thought, however, was preposterous, and Anassa knew it - men and were were never 'friends'. Any man to whom she was not directly related by blood was either a lover or a husband, and Ianthus was neither.

But he could be.

Yes, Anassa agreed, he could be, but she would never allow that to happed. Standing in such a proximity to the man - to the lover, Anassa corrected - stirred thoughts of her own lowliness in comparison to his beauty, and to escape the sudden rush of resentment that flooded her, Anassa's eyes glued themselves to Ianthus' injured arm. It was healing itself quite well.

"Why, that'll hardly leave a mark!"

"Pardon?" Apollo said.

"The cut; it's incredible. It's almost perfectly healed. I've never seen anything like it!"

Apollo arched an eyebrow, as if to say you are a healer? "Really? I have barely noticed it."

"It was horrible a few days ago. Especially when you first came to her. I've never really appreciated just how skilled Cora truly is, actually," Anassa admitted, ashamed. "And she's helped me so many times."

"Perhaps you should beging doing so, then," he said.

Anassa sighed. "I can't argue with that."

"Anassa," Apollo said. "Come up to the deck. It does you no good to linger here. It is foul." He sniffed the air, wincing.

"I can't. They know about me."

"And you think that they will not try anything even though you are down here, hidden away? If they had wanted to cause you trouble, they would have done so already," he pointed out.

"I suppose that you are right," Anassa admitted.

"I am right. Now let us leave this place."

He opened the door wide, ushering her through it.

She certainly didn't want to go.

But who could resist such a spectacular man?

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And so the chapter has been read. Until next time - and, no, I certainly do not mean to imply next year.


End file.
